


There Is Only Forward

by akisazame



Series: stop, erase, rewind [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akisazame/pseuds/akisazame
Summary: "Okay, so, what? You want it to be perfect to live up to my fantasies?" He blushes when he says it, which Victor finds so adorable that he has to kiss each of Yuuri's cheeks in turn."That's part of it," Victor admits. He hesitates, because he's not sure how Yuuri will react to the other part. "Also, I've never... without...""You rewind every time you have sex." The way Yuuri says it sounds so clinical, which Victor supposes it might be. "Trial and error? To see what you both like best?" Victor just nods, and is surprised when, instead of admonishing him, Yuuri just presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Victor," Yuuri says against Victor's lips, "that's what peopledo.We just do it without rewinding."





	There Is Only Forward

**Author's Note:**

> this side story takes place during the events of Those Perfect Imperfections, sometime after Rostelecom but before the GPF. title from Stay Gold by First Aid Kit.

For years, every action Victor took was a calculation. When he was alone, it was easiest; there were certain imperfections that he could take in stride when he was by himself in his apartment, or just with Makkachin. The introduction of an audience, whether they were paying attention or not, muddied the waters a bit.

Interacting with another person, of course, was a whole other thing entirely.

The problem was, Victor had never thought it through from a perspective other than his own. From his point of view, there wasn't any harm in rewinding ten seconds of a conversation to erase another person's anger or unhappiness. It wasn't as though the other person would remember the ways in which it went poorly, and they would both end up happy in the end. Happiness was the desired result. _Perfection_ was the desired result.

And then there was Yuuri. Yuuri, whose very existence forced him to be honest.

_Can you do it right now?_ Yuuri had asked in the parking garage, and Victor had heard: _Have you been doing it this whole time?_

_It would be tempting,_ Yuuri had said that morning in his bedroom after they'd returned from Beijing, and Victor had heard: _But I wouldn't have._

_Just use it sparingly. And not on people,_ Yuuri had said after their first successful runthrough of the Stay Close To Me pair skate, and Victor had heard: _You shouldn't have used it on people at all._

Every action Victor takes with Yuuri is still a calculation. But unlike before, when he'd always had a safety net, now he is jumping off a cliff into an ocean of clouds, with no way to know where he will land.

Which is why it has taken him so long to get to this moment, here and now, in Yuuri's room, on Yuuri's bed, with his hand under Yuuri's shirt and Yuuri frowning at him.

"I saw that," Yuuri says, accusatory. He brings the hand that isn't clinging to the edge of Victor's shirt up to press his finger against Victor's forehead, as though there is any doubt about what Yuuri means.

Victor wishes he'd learned thirteen years ago that he has a tell, though there's some fuzzy logic to using his power to perfect the use of his power. "You saw that," he echoes, extracting his hand from under Yuuri's shirt and sitting back on his heels. "Reflex," he adds, as though it's an excuse.

Yuuri scoots backwards, propping himself up with his pillows under the small of his back, his knees aligning themselves with Victor's. He exhales slowly and runs his fingers through his hair. Victor just waits, silently mortified, disgusted with himself. He'd been doing so much better lately.

"Well," Yuuri says, after what feels like ages, "I suppose I can understand the impulse." A pause, and Victor braces himself for the follow-up, the admonition about consent. "But," -- Victor inhales, holds it -- "why did you try?"

Yuuri touches Victor's cheek, and the breath leaves him in a rush. "What?"

"I was enjoying it," Yuuri says, glancing away for a moment as he does, a blush coloring his face. "What did you think you did wrong?"

Questioned about it, Victor doesn't know how to answer. It had been something about the look on Yuuri's face, or the noise he'd made, or... "I'm a perfectionist," he finally says, then immediately regrets saying it.

Yuuri flicks Victor's forehead.

"Ow!"

"Stop it!" Yuuri says, and Victor thinks Yuuri is angry until he sees the half-smile on his face. He tugs Victor down so he can press a soft kiss to the center of Victor's forehead, right where it stings. Victor stays there, hovering over Yuuri, not sure what to do. "Are you really that nervous?" Yuuri whispers.

"Terrified," Victor answers, and he hadn't realized how true that was until he hears the way his voice trembles.

"Me too." Yuuri is smiling in earnest now, and Victor feels his mouth helplessly mirroring the expression. Yuuri's hand cups the side of Victor's face, and Victor leans into it, letting his eyes fall closed, trying to calm the panicked beating of his heart. "Can you tell me what you wanted to do?"

"I wanted..." Victor begins, then stops himself short. _Everything. Anything. Nothing at all._ He turns his face towards Yuuri's hand, hiding his mouth when he speaks. "I wanted to do whatever made you happiest."

Yuuri sighs. "Victor..."

"I'm ruining this," Victor mutters, and tries to pull away, but Yuuri's arms encircle his waist, holding him in place. "I thought I was learning how to live without rewinding but this... this is..."

_Too important to screw up,_ he wants to say, and can't.

One of Yuuri's palms slides under Victor's shirt and begins rubbing gentle circles on his back. "You don't have to _do_ anything to make me happy," Yuuri says. "Are you kidding? You make me happy just by being here."

Victor leans in to press their foreheads together, searching Yuuri's eyes as though he'll find the answer to all his fears somewhere inside them. "I find that hard to believe. You had all those posters and magazines, so surely you--"

Yuuri's eyes go wide. "Who told you?" He frowns. " _I felt that._ "

"Sorry," Victor says, wincing. He's still too used to being able to run his mouth, seeing how the other person reacts, and then erasing everything if it doesn't turn out favorably. Of course, that isn't possible with Yuuri. "A lot of people told me. The lady at the bookstore. Yuuko. Your sister."

"I'd rather our bedroom talk not involve my sister," Yuuri mutters, and Victor snorts out a laugh, which makes Yuuri smile. "Okay, so, what? You want it to be perfect to live up to my fantasies?" He blushes when he says it, which Victor finds so adorable that he has to kiss each of Yuuri's cheeks in turn.

"That's part of it," Victor admits. He hesitates, because he's not sure how Yuuri will react to the other part. "Also, I've never... without..."

"You rewind every time you have sex." The way Yuuri says it sounds so clinical, which Victor supposes it might be. "Trial and error? To see what you both like best?" Victor just nods, and is surprised when, instead of admonishing him, Yuuri just presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Victor," Yuuri says against Victor's lips, "that's what people _do._ We just do it without rewinding."

"Oh," Victor says, right before Yuuri kisses him again. He can't focus on the kiss the way he wants to, and it must be noticeable, because Yuuri breaks away with a quizzical look. He seems to be expecting Victor to say something, but Victor doesn't know what to say.

Then, after ten seconds where neither of them say anything, Yuuri's hands move to grasp Victor's, guiding them back to where they'd been before, beneath Yuuri's shirt. Then he stops, their gazes locking together. "Start here, okay?"

For just a moment, Victor closes his eyes and lets himself imagine all the things he might try if he could rewind the next ten seconds. Then he opens his eyes and Yuuri is still watching him, patiently waiting for the one single thing that Victor will try first. It's so much pressure that Victor thinks he might be crushed, but there's only trust in Yuuri's eyes. "Okay," Victor says, then tugs the ends of Yuuri's shirt.

Yuuri wriggles to sit up so that Victor has a better angle, and Victor sweeps the shirt up and off, tossing it to the floor beside Yuuri's bed. Then, before he can think better of it, he slides both hands into Yuuri's tousled hair and kisses him deeply, pushing him down onto the bed, back to where they were before Victor started second-guessing himself. Yuuri's hands trace up Victor's sides as they kiss, then back down, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of Victor's pants but going no further.

Victor manages to lose himself in it; his brain stops demarcating ten second intervals, instead focusing on the taste of Yuuri's mouth, the warmth of Yuuri's tongue, the feel of Yuuri's hands. Then Yuuri shifts beneath him, pressing his thigh up between Victor's legs, and Victor shudders, breaking the kiss.

The combination of stimulation and Yuuri's obvious interest spurs Victor on, and he disentangles his hands from Yuuri's hair and races them down to slide beneath the waistband of Yuuri's track pants. Yuuri arches off the bed to accommodate the pants removal process and Victor thinks it might be the most erotic thing he's ever seen. Victor's brain doesn't catch up with him until he's pushing the pants and underwear past Yuuri's feet, cradling one calf in the palm of his hand. When Victor looks up, Yuuri's eyes are wide and dark.

He wants to ask permission, but his mouth is still dry. He licks his lips and watches Yuuri's throat move as Yuuri swallows.

"Keep going," Yuuri says, more breath than voice, and it makes Victor's brain jump start. He discards the remainder of Yuuri's clothes onto the floor, then looks up to see Yuuri naked before him, like a slightly self-conscious centerfold. He's still holding Yuuri's leg and he leans into it, rubbing his cheek against the ball of Yuuri's foot, pressing lips into the hollow of his arch.

Victor's mouth opens, his tongue barely flickering against the skin of Yuuri's foot, and Yuuri squeaks, flails, and kicks Victor right in the throat.

All at once, Victor recoils, retreating to the far edge of Yuuri's bed. He covers his face with his hands, and he can feel the wrinkle in his forehead underneath his fingertips. _Rewind,_ his mind pleads, just once, desperately, even though he knows it won't do any good.

He's back to subconsciously counting seconds, which is how he knows that only six seconds pass before Yuuri's hands encircle his wrists, first one, then the other. Gently, Yuuri tugs back towards himself; Victor lets Yuuri remove Victor's left hand from his face, but not his right. "Are you okay?" Yuuri asks. Victor is trying to piece together an answer -- he wants to be okay, because this is important, but he doesn't know if he's okay, because this is _important_ \-- when Yuuri lets go of Victor's left hand so he can hover his fingers over Victor's neck.

This is easier for Victor to answer. He swallows, and it hurts a little, but not much. He's had worse on the ice, though he's always erased it. "I'm okay," he says, letting his right hand fall from his face as well. Yuuri's hand twists around, but keeps its grip on Victor's wrist, which makes Victor feel... he's not sure. Grounded, maybe.

Yuuri's free hand comes up to press against Victor's forehead, and he realizes that Yuuri was asking both questions at once. "How about here?"

"I don't know," Victor says.

"Okay." Yuuri exhales. Inhales. Exhales again. Victor can feel every second ticking past, senses the interval he might have rewound slipping away, and wonders if Yuuri realizes what he's doing. "We don't have to do this. You know that, right?"

Victor knows that Yuuri means well, because Yuuri always means well. He's learned enough about Yuuri's anxieties and insecurities to know that he would never endeavor to make someone unhappy. But that doesn't stop Victor's heart from twisting in his chest. It's not a rejection. He knows, he _knows,_ and yet... "I'm sorry," he says, and then, without meaning to: "Please don't give up on me."

Yuuri's teeth worry at his bottom lip, then release it as he seems to come to a decision. "W- will you let me try something?"

_Anything, always._ "Yes," Victor says instead.

Yuuri lets out a heavy breath. "Okay. Just tell me if it's too much. Or if you don't like it. Or--"

This time, Victor feels the impulse to rewind before his mind tries to do it, and he stops it before it starts. "I'll tell you. I promise."

"Okay." Yuuri closes his eyes and breathes again. "Okay," he repeats, like he's psyching himself up. When he opens his eyes again, he looks very serious. "Take your shirt off."

Victor's mouth goes dry. "Yuuri, you--"

" _Victor,_ " Yuuri interjects, more forceful this time, "I said take your shirt off."

_Oh._ Now that Victor understands the game Yuuri wants to play, he rushes to comply, tugging his shirt off over his head in one fluid motion and throwing it to the floor. Yuuri looks a little startled, as though he hadn't expected it to work. Victor sits back on his heels again. "Now what?"

"Um," Yuuri says, and somehow Victor finds the anxious stalling just as sexy as being ordered around. After a moment, Yuuri reaches out, his arms looping around Victor's neck. His skin feels very warm against Victor's exposed shoulders. "Come here. Kiss me."

They've kissed so many times since that first one in Beijing -- they've kissed dozens of times just today, here in Yuuri's bed -- but this is the first time Yuuri has ever directed him to do it, and hearing Yuuri's desire stated so plainly is intoxicating. Victor leans in and captures Yuuri's lips, letting one hand slide across the expanse of Yuuri's back so he can lower him onto the bed again. He lets his kisses drift away from Yuuri's mouth, following a trail up to Yuuri's earlobe, then down the side of his neck. This is familiar territory; he's already learned what Yuuri likes when it comes to kissing. He wants to know every single thing that Yuuri likes, to weave the knowledge into the tapestry of his understanding, but for now he sucks lightly at the juncture between Yuuri's neck and shoulder as he waits for Yuuri's next instruction.

Instead of the next instruction, however, Yuuri just makes a low hum and arches towards Victor, his cock pressing hard against Victor's thigh. "So good," Yuuri breathes, and the praise rushes through Victor like a jolt of electricity. He scrapes his teeth over Yuuri's skin, then soothes it with his tongue. "You should..." Yuuri starts, then stops, eyelids fluttering with pleasure. Victor pauses, feeling each second tick by in the marrow of his bones.

"What should I do?" Victor finally asks, his lips still mostly pressed to Yuuri's shoulder.

Yuuri's eyes open and his face flushes pink. "Um," he says again, clearly overwhelmed.

If Victor could rewind, he might have erased Yuuri's attempt to take control as soon as it had happened. But then again, if Victor could rewind, then Yuuri wouldn't have needed to attempt it at all. Everything about this, the very specific path that he has taken to reach this moment with Yuuri, is extraordinarily tenuous. Impulsively, Victor reaches to disentangle one of Yuuri's arms from around his neck, then weaves their fingers together and squeezes tightly.

"What if," he says, and he hopes that Yuuri can't hear the way uncertainty drips from every word, "you describe one of your fantasies to me?"

There's a pause, and Yuuri's eyes go very wide. "What?"

"The posters," Victor goes on, stupidly, as though that explains anything. He winces, tries again. "I mean, you must have thought of something while you--"

"Oh my god I am going to drown my sister in the hot spring," Yuuri says, low and fast, and Victor can't hold back the laugh that he snorts against Yuuri's chest.

"I thought our bedroom talk shouldn't involve your sister?" Victor teases, and Yuuri only groans in response. Victor laughs again, and then Yuuri is laughing too, and then it hits him: Victor might have _enjoyed_ every other time he's had sex, but he's never laughed during it before. He'd always spent so much time worrying about his partner's happiness that he'd forgotten to be happy himself. The realization feels amazing, the same way that skating without rewinding had felt amazing. The feeling makes him bold, which is why he doesn't think much about it before ducking his head to circle the tip of his tongue around Yuuri's nipple.

The laughter stutters out of Yuuri's mouth as all his breath leaves him in a rush. "Victor," Yuuri says, and it sounds like a plea.

A second thing Victor realizes, in his moment of crystal-clear awareness, is that it wouldn't be fair if Victor left all of the risk-taking up to Yuuri. Learning together, as Yuuri suggested, is the far better tactic. However, a third realization is right on the heels of that second one: if Victor backs down now, without being able to rewind the memory away, Yuuri will blame himself. So, instead, he squeezes Yuuri's hand while he breathes lightly over the sensitive skin of Yuuri's nipple. "No one told me anything," he whispers. "I want you to tell me. What did you think about me doing to you?"

"This," Yuuri says without hesitation. His eyes are tightly closed, and Victor wants to brush his thumb beneath them, along the ridge of Yuuri's cheek, but one hand is under Yuuri's back and Yuuri is clutching so tightly at the other that Victor thinks his fingertips might be going numb.

"Look at me," he says instead, and Yuuri obeys. Yuuri's eyes are dark and wet. "I'm here with you," Victor continues, watching the subtle movements of Yuuri's eyelashes as he starts to close his eyes again but forces himself to stop. "Tell me what I should do."

It's not so different, Victor thinks, from what Yuuri intended to do, but somehow reframing it like this has loosened Yuuri's reticent tongue. "First you would kiss me. You did that part already, it was perfect. Then you'd kiss down my chest, just like you're d- doing..." He stutters when Victor resumes his ministrations, kissing a path around Yuuri's nipple, open-mouthed and wet. "Th- then you'd... maybe... use your teeth a little?"

Victor doesn't understand why it's a question, but he obliges, taking Yuuri's nipple between his teeth and gently biting down. Yuuri hisses like he's been burned, and Victor freezes, genuinely unsure whether it was a sound of pain or pleasure. He wants to rewind, knows he can't, feels each second ticking by inexorably.

"Maybe not that," Yuuri says seven seconds later, and Victor doesn't know how to feel about it. He wants to feel guilty for doing something that Yuuri didn't like, wants to feel angry for not being able to take it back, wants to feel grateful that he's learned something about Yuuri anyway. He doesn't know how to parse the fact that Yuuri told him to do something that he didn't end up enjoying. He knows Yuuri isn't a virgin; they'd talked about it before they'd even started. But, he supposes, that doesn't mean Yuuri's already established a complete laundry list of all his likes and dislikes in bed. Victor isn't even sure why he would think that.

Victor looks up at Yuuri's face, looking for some kind of sign. "Should I...?" _Stop_ is on the tip of his tongue.

"Don't you dare," Yuuri cuts in, and the hand that's still clutching Victor's lets go, then catches him by the wrist instead. "You'd keep going, keep kissing down my stomach." As he speaks, he moves Victor's hand down, placing it on his own thigh. "Then you'd touch me."

Maybe, if he could rewind time, he would make Yuuri clarify. Maybe, in the future, when Victor doesn't feel as though he's constantly ten seconds away from ruining everything, he'll make Yuuri say the words. But this time, Victor just takes the hint, shifting his hand to gently encircle Yuuri's cock.

Yuuri shivers and makes a soft noise that vibrates against Victor's lips. The arm that's been around Victor's neck this whole time shifts so that Yuuri can bury his fingers in Victor's hair, and _oh,_ that's something Victor had been ambivalent about before, but the way Yuuri does it makes electricity shoot through his veins. Then Yuuri's hand is tugging downward, directing Victor without words, and Victor moves where he's led, continuing his path down Yuuri's stomach.

Victor glances up and sees Yuuri, eyes still open and watching him hazily, and a strange sense of calm settles over him. It's the same sort of confidence he'd feel if he played and rewound this moment a hundred times, except that he hasn't, because that's impossible. But Yuuri _trusts_ him, and maybe that was what he'd been missing before. Victor isn't sure, because he’s never even thought of it. Pleasure? Of course. But trust? That was something else, something separate, something that came with...

Oh, right. Love.

So, as readily as if he's been ordered to do it, Victor ducks his head and takes the tip of Yuuri's cock into his mouth.

The reaction is immediate. Yuuri's hips stutter, and his whole body jumps as though it's been shocked. Victor wriggles his hand free from under Yuuri's back and takes hold of Yuuri's hip, pressing him down into the mattress. It's not enough to keep Yuuri from arching and squirming as Victor takes him in deeper, and it's certainly not enough to keep Yuuri from pressing his thigh against Victor's own erection through the pants Victor hadn’t bothered to remove. The stimulation makes Victor groan, which in turn makes Yuuri writhe, creating a feedback loop of pleasure. Victor can't remember if he's ever gotten this aroused when he hasn't been on the receiving end, and he's not sure if it's different now because he can't rewind time or just because it's Yuuri. Maybe both. It doesn't matter, he thinks as he curls his tongue around Yuuri's cock and Yuuri shifts the angle of his thigh and Victor doesn't think he's ever felt this good in his _life._

Victor stops thinking about the seconds ticking by, stops thinking about how he could have made this perfect, stops thinking about anything at all. Yuuri gasps out something and Victor isn't sure what language it was but his name was in there somewhere, maybe. He certainly can't take direction from it, so he just keeps going, and then all at once he feels Yuuri coming against the back of his throat.

There's a moment after where everything is very still. Victor savors it, a perfect crystallized collection of seconds that he might rewind over and over again, for hours, if only he could.

"Victor," Yuuri says, his voice low and impossibly fond. Victor looks up, and he's not sure what he was expecting but it was definitely not Yuuri's hands reaching for him, settling on Victor's shoulders and pushing him up and then back, until he's lying flat with his head at the foot of Yuuri's bed. Then, before Victor can even process what's happening, Yuuri is pushing Victor's pants and underwear down off his hips and kneeling between Victor's legs. "Now it's your turn. Tell me what you like."

Victor's brain short circuits. It's not just the sight of Yuuri, on his knees and ready to take whatever instruction Victor is willing to give him, that makes the words dry up in Victor's mouth, but the fact that he genuinely has no idea how to answer the question. He's always been so preoccupied with stopping and starting, erasing and rewinding, creating the perfect scene. His own pleasure has been an afterthought. "Surely you have your own fantasies about this part, too?"

"Don't you dare," Yuuri says, seeing right through Victor's attempt at deflection. "I told you a bunch of stuff. Just tell me one thing."

The truth is, Victor's on such a razor's edge that it doesn't much matter what Yuuri does. Just a touch could do him in, probably. He tries to reach for the English words to express what he wants, but the phrase he knows would be appropriate is strangely elusive. "D- debt is only beautiful after it is repaid...?"

Yuuri just stares at him, then covers his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter. "What are you talking about?"

"Yuuri, please just suck me off before I say anything else stupid," Victor says in a rush. Yuuri is still laughing a little when he envelops Victor's cock in his mouth, and the combination of vibration and warmth sets Victor off almost instantly, like a wire pulled tight that's finally snapped.

It's not until Victor opens his eyes that he even realizes he'd closed them. He's greeted by Yuuri's face, a centimeter away from his own, wearing an expression that Victor can only parse as some kind of amusement. "That," Yuuri says, a blush dusting his cheeks, "was really hot."

Victor mentally backtracks through the last few minutes and groans, rubbing his hand over his face and back through his hair. "It wasn't," he mumbles into the crook of his elbow.

"It _was,_ " Yuuri insists. He nudges Victor's arm aside with his nose, then presses a kiss to the side of Victor's mouth. "Like, really really incredibly hot. Like, better than my fantasies hot."

The uncomfortable sense of guilt remains, but there's a tiny flame of pride under it, burning warm and bright. "Surely I had a little more stamina in your fantasies."

Yuuri drapes himself across Victor's chest and tucks his head under Victor's chin. "Maybe, but that's why it was hot. It's, um... flattering, I guess." Victor can't see Yuuri's face from this angle, but he can see the way the tips of Yuuri's ears turn red. "A- anyway, you shouldn't be embarrassed about it. Or anything. I wouldn't change a single thing."

At first, Victor thinks there are a lot of things he would change. He wishes he could have given Yuuri the perfection he truly deserves. He recalls everyone else he's ever been with, and how he would rewind and rewind and rewind until he crafted the perfect performance. But, in the end, that was all it was: a performance, just like on the ice. Having sex with someone was no different from any other interaction he had with another person, a series of calculations until he solved his partner like a puzzle. It hadn't been like that with Yuuri, and the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that the parts he'd liked best were the parts that, with anyone else, he might have erased.

He doesn't know how to say any of that, doesn't even know where to begin. Instead, he just smiles and says, "Not even the part where you kicked me in the throat?"

Yuuri punches him lightly in the arm, nothing more than a tap of knuckles against skin. "You tickled my foot! You deserved it!"

"Hmm, it's really too bad," Victor says, lightly trailing his fingertips down Yuuri's back. "With anyone else, I could learn all their ticklish spots and they'd neeeeever have to know I did it."

"Don't you dare," Yuuri says viciously. He curls in on himself protectively, but doesn't pull away. "You wouldn't. We're having a moment."

Victor flattens his hand on Yuuri's back, a solid press of his palm instead of the teasing touches from before. "We are," he agrees, pressing his lips to Yuuri's hair. They're having this moment, and then they'll have another, and then another, a string of moments going forward and never back. But, Victor thinks as he feels Yuuri settle his weight against Victor's side, maybe that's good enough.

**Author's Note:**

> the English idiom Victor was trying for was "turnabout is fair play." instead he dug up "Долг платежо́м кра́сен" and translated it to English. rest in fucking peace, Victor.
> 
> "if I wrote a sequel to Second Thoughts it would be a sex comedy" started as a joke, and then Chisotahn actually wrote the sequel, and then I thought, well okay I can shoehorn some porn into her timeline, and then it grew Feelings Horns and now we have this.
> 
> this is the end of the stop erase rewind universe for now! thank you everyone for reading, and your kudos, and your kind words.
> 
> track my hijinks on tumblo: [akisazame.tumblr.com](http://akisazame.tumblr.com)


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